Bad Company
by riveriver
Summary: If the silence in my head lasted, I would never go back. I wouldn't be the first one to choose this form over the other. (Written for TFN's November contest, 'The Little Scene That Should'. Set post Eclipse. One shot.)


_**A/N:** This was written for the November TFN contest. It didn't win anything (there were only two entries, and the other one was E/B so whaddya expect?). Three cheers for the lovely Aunt Bran, who was kind enough to beta this after I threw myself on her online doorstep. Thanks also to MarieCarro for creating the story banner._

 _ **Disclaimer:** Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

 **Bad Company**

 _otherwise known as (had it been a chapter in the books):_

 _'_ _Remember That Time I Had a Crack at Going Native? Yeah, That Sucked'_

* * *

 _If the silence in my head lasted, I would never go back. I wouldn't be the first one to choose this form over the other. Maybe, if I ran far enough away, I would never have to hear again…_

 _I pushed my legs faster, letting Jacob Black disappear behind me._

 ** _— Jacob Black (Eclipse, Epilogue: 'Choice')_**

* * *

 _If you are lonely when you're alone, you are in bad company._

 ** _— Jean-Paul Sartre_**

* * *

I ran until I could hardly remember my own name.

I only recalled it because my brothers, my sister — they whispered it to me, called for me across the mind we shared when in this form. They spoke to me as I ran across unknown lands, through dense and damp forests, over towering mountains which were already buried in light sheets of snow. They spoke to me as I ran into the far reaches of Canada, as I roamed its national parks and slept amongst the wild wolves which inhabited them.

These wolves welcomed me. They did not challenge me, did not keep their food from me. Perhaps because they sensed what was in my blood. In Ephraim's blood.

It was as if the wolves here knew of my ever-growing, desperate need — my quiet compulsion to take control, to protect, to lead. All of which I'd surrendered, thereby (and all too willingly) allowing Sam to be the one to keep us all in line and make all those decisions I didn't want to.

But still it haunted me, that choice. It still struggled fruitlessly against the irons I'd clamped around it. Because I didn't want it. Would never want it. I just couldn't take away somebody's free will like that, and if I ever went insane enough to actually want to pick up the mantle then I'd become the ultimate hypocrite.

So I ran from that, too, just like I was running from everything else. Taking the coward's way out, and trying not to give a damn. About any of it.

The wild wolves didn't judge me for it. They provided a different sense of pack entirely. In comparison to my brothers they were normal. Quiet, so long as I blocked out everyone I'd left behind — even Sam, who had seen my pain and had let me go but who still did not leave me alone. He did not agree with my determination to keep as far away from La Push — from _Washington_ — as I could manage. And yet he could not bring himself to make the order that might bring me home.

That was Sam, though. Always either too lenient (especially when it came to Leah), or too heavy-handed (especially when it came to Leah). There was no in-between.

Sam didn't understand. Hell, none of them understood. Not even Embry, and certainly not Quil — my best friends, my brothers even before this madness. They did not understand needing to escape, not when they had imprints and mothers keeping them in one piece. Even if Embry's mom screamed and screamed at him, grounded him, and screamed some more. Still, he stayed in La Push. He loved this new life, this new body. He loved the sense of family, of belonging, which he'd not really had before.

I did not.

Sure, the _speed_ , the quick healing and the strength I'd gained since my first phase were great. More than great. Without my newfound abilities I'd never have survived that newborn sucker that had wrapped its arms around me back in June, and I probably wouldn't have been able to pull Bella out of that raging ocean after she'd so stupidly jumped into it.

(Cliff diving. Recreational, she'd called it. I very nearly snorted at the thought. Would have, if thinking about Bella didn't still send a spasm of pain through me.)

But the intrusions... I didn't love that part of this life. Not being able to keep a secret. Having your whole life splayed out for the pack to see, to rifle through. Never having a moment's peace, or being able to hide those raw thoughts and feelings. Thoughts and feelings which were _mine_ and nobody else's. I was constantly having to reign myself in and shut myself away, even now while I was thousands of miles away.

It had been harder than I'd expected. The whole 'going native' thing, as it were. I still _felt_ them. Every time they phased, every time they were on the receiving end of an order from our Alpha. That gut wrenching, heavy weight on their shoulders which came with it.

I heard them, too. Try as I might not to, I listened to their bickering, their debating over whether or not I was doing the right thing; I was there when they lost themselves in their own thoughts; I watched their memories play out. I saw it all through their eyes, their minds.

They knew that I was right there with them, everywhere they went. That I was watching, listening. They did not forget. Especially not Seth. That little punk was relaying everything to Bella.

She called. All. The. Time.

Leah had picked up the phone on a few occasions, and she'd not stopped raging about it for several hours afterwards. She made sure I heard — particularly after that first phone call she'd had with Bella, after I hadn't acknowledged her anger. She'd only screamed louder. She'd replayed every word of the conversation and she hadn't hidden her triumph, the pride she'd felt when she'd heard Bella's tears on the other end of the line.

(Okay, so maybe Leah understood. She didn't agree — _imprint_ trumped _leech_ in her book — but of the whole pack, I guessed that she would be the only one to understand why I'd left. Even if she had spat at me.)

So Seth tried to reach for the phone when he could, because the kid worshipped the Cullens and he loved talking to Bella. Everyone had made their choices, he said. And that was that, as far as he was concerned. It was still hard to believe that someone so… _good-natured_ was related to somebody like Leah.

He really needed to stop spilling the beans, though. I was getting irritated with the constant checking-up on me from the pack, let alone Bella. Because Seth was right about one thing: she'd made her choice. Now she needed to leave me the hell alone and live with it. For as long as she was going to live, anyway. I supposed she wouldn't stay human for long after she got married.

Bella. Married. I'd have never made her—

 _Oh, joy,_ drawled a familiar tone, _it's awake._

 _Leave off, Leah._

She swore at Quil, vile and unrestrained. But we were used to it, used to her outbursts, though she was a little braver now that I was thousands of miles away and couldn't take a good chunk out of her hide.

Quil ignored her.

 _Miss you, Jake,_ he whispered. My friend, my brother. Then he phased, leaving me alone. Shift handover. I wondered who had drawn the short straw to run with Leah for the next six hours. Then I decided I didn't care, and went back to watching the wild wolves scuffle over the dead elk one of the larger males had brought down.

I'd never seen wolves hunt before. Something other than a leech, anyway. The swifter, smaller females herded their prey, while their young observed from the sidelines so that they could learn. And then the powerful males went in for the kill, not as quick but ten times more aggressive. As a whole, as one, they were a well-oiled machine. Practiced, perfect. They all knew what they had to do, knew what was expected of them.

I knew Sam would make sure his pack was that efficient when they — _we_ — took on the Cullens for breaking the treaty. When Bella's eyes turned blood red and her heart stopped beating.

I felt my own skip at that thought. Would she fight me, like I would have to fight her? Defend herself?

Leah scoffed, far away. I forcefully yanked my shutters down, blocking her out, just as the lowest ranking member of the wild pack was allowed to start eating the remaining scraps of the elk.

I was larger than all of them, of course — all nine of them, which the small remaining _Jacob_ -part of me found hilarious. I'd traded nine Quileute wolves in and gotten another nine. But I'd leave them soon, too. I hoped they didn't try to follow me; they'd not been confronted by the neighbouring pack for as long as I'd been with them, and they were getting bolder with their hunting range because of it.

I didn't know how long I'd been with them. How long I'd been wandering, trying to forget, trying not to _think_. Weeks maybe.

At first I had retreated so far into my mind, my anger, that there had not been room for much else. The real test had come when the pack could not hold off patrolling our boundary lines any longer and had broken the silence they'd left me with. I'd struggled to throw up any kind of defense against the ones who begged me to come home already and the ones who ridiculed me for thinking I could do this.

I was going to do it. I could. I had to. Because the only alternative was finding my way back to La Push with my tail between my legs, where I'd soon have to watch my dad's best friend grieve for the daughter he believed had died — who had been _my_ best friend.

I didn't see how we could still be friends after she gave up her humanity. It was impossible to think about, despite the… _weird-ship_ which her bloodsucker and Seth had going on. I couldn't find another word for what had formed between those two. It baffled even Sam.

 _That kind of hero worship always ends in tears,_ Leah thought peevishly. _It won't last._

I huffed in annoyance, loudly enough that the puny wolf feasting on the elk nearby startled. I'd let my defences fall again.

 _He's going to the wedding, you know,_ Leah continued. She was as unhappy about this as her mom, who was only going because my dad was going. A show of solidarity for Charlie. Against the suckers who had ruined the lives of their kids.

There would be others, soon, if Doctor Fang and his bloodsuckers stuck around any longer. If they carried on drawing attention to the little set-up they had going on. If any other suckers decided that they wanted to snack on Bella.

Against the odds, I still hoped that Collin and Brady would be the last. Ten of us was enough.

 _Elijah Anderson is looking a little Herculean these days,_ Leah told me as she started a second lap around our eastern perimeter. She was fast. _Old Quil's trying to find a reason to shake his hand, get a feel of his temperature._

No. No more. Ten was _enough._

 _Is it, though?_ Leah asked. God, she was annoying. So much for her understanding.

I hauled myself to my feet and shook the matted leaves from my fur, which was long now I'd not had one of Emily's haircuts for a while. I didn't try and hide that particular thought from my audience — I knew she listened, just like I listened to her, no matter how often we claimed to drown each other out.

Her sullen silence which answered me was enough to know I'd pissed her off — again — and I hoped that she'd leave me alone for the rest of her patrol.

But her resentment towards Emily, towards me… it still echoed. It was so bad that I allowed the wolf — _my_ wolf, _me_ — to take over. I gave into the hunger which was clawing at my belly from the lingering smell of the demolished elk nearby. And I started running.

This part was easy.

The tiny wolf I'd been eyeing, the omega, ducked her head as I passed. They were all about body language, these wolves. They were emotional, too. Physical. But I didn't acknowledge the little one as I began to follow the scent of the closest herd — the same herd which this  
pack had already targeted once today. Instead I pushed myself harder, faster, sprinting until it began to burn.

I ran until I could hardly remember my own name.


End file.
